


perchance to dream

by thunderylee



Category: Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sleepy/Unconscious Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:59:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12383217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: That must be one hell of a dream to make Kitayama actually move in his sleep.





	perchance to dream

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written with ayamehadouken for kink bingo (sleepy/unconscious).

“Fuck me,” groans a low, all-too-familiar voice, and Fujigaya’s eyes pop open to see absolutely nothing. The alarm clock is on the other side of the bed, leaving him in complete darkness.

There’s no sound from the other side of the bed, not even a shift in movement. He must have been imagining things. Or he could have dreamt it, as disturbing as that thought is. He doesn’t take to dreaming about having sexual encounters with his bandmates, especially this one. It’s bad enough that there had been a hotel mix-up and they were forced to not only share a room, but also a bed.

At least Kitayama doesn’t snore or toss and turn in his sleep, Fujigaya mentally reasons with himself. Kitayama also sleeps like the dead, his breathing barely audible even in the absolute silence. When they were younger, way before their current unit was even formed and subsequently their number one pairing status, Fujigaya would stare at the sleeping Kitayama in concern until he saw the older man’s chest barely rise and fall. Now he’s just jealous that Kitayama can sleep so damn easily.

“Fuuuuuck meeeeeee.”

Before Fujigaya’s sleepy brain can wrap around the fact that those words actually exist, and from that person, there’s a sudden movement next to him, followed by a frustrated whine that’s muffled a bit by his pillow. Kitayama must have flopped onto his stomach, Fujigaya thinks, and quite sharply. That must be one hell of a dream to make him actually move in his sleep.

Fujigaya resolutely stays facing away from Kitayama; if he can’t see it, it can’t be real, even if there’s audio. He can ignore it, and if he can’t, his mp3 player is on his nightstand and he can find it just fine in the darkness.

His plan works, but only until he remembers that he’d plugged it up to charge on the other side of the room and it would require dragging his ass out of bed to get it. Fujigaya huffs and buries his head under his pillow. It’s not as effective, but beggars can’t be bothered to get out of bed when they’re exhausted, and he tries to get over it.

Fujigaya manages to fall into a light, if annoyed, slumber and tries to think of the bright side of all this. The bright side where he endlessly teases Kitayama about his wet dreams and how he should have grown out of that by now.

He’s startled awake by something touching him; Fujigaya cringes when he realizes Kitayama has thoroughly invaded his personal space, one arm slung over his hips. He starts to freeze, but his body has other ideas as he shudders beneath Kitayama’s weight and leans back into the embrace. It’s been entirely too long since anyone’s held him, he recalls, even if it has to be that guy. Kitayama’s face fits neatly between Fujigaya’s neck and shoulder, a pleased noise pressed into Fujigaya’s skin as he holds Fujigaya close to him.

Fujigaya wonders what Kitayama is dreaming about. Probably not him, or even another man. Well, it could possibly be another man; Fujigaya doesn’t know all of Kitayama’s business, but he’s heard things. Things that have his face heating up as he becomes very aware of something hard digging into the base of his spine. Kitayama rocks against him and now he’s groaning, deep enough for Fujigaya to feel in his own groin.

“Wake up,” Fujigaya hisses, more quietly than he should. “Kitayama, wake up.”

“Fuck me,” Kitayama replies, low and sexy and entirely too close to Fujigaya’s ear.

“You’re not awake,” Fujigaya says, more to himself than to Kitayama.

“Fuck me,” Kitayama says again, his hand dropping right between Fujigaya’s legs, where he’s shamefully getting hard and gets fully erect from one firm squeeze. “Taisuke.”

Fujigaya gulps as Kitayama’s hand starts to massage him, and he’s distressed to realize he actually _is_ seriously considering following Kitayama’s orders for once. Maybe this is all a dream, he tries to rationalize, but that doesn’t work so well when Kitayama actually nuzzles against his shoulder.

His emergency kit with lube and condoms is within reach, and Fujigaya finally gives in, carefully reaching toward the pouch on the flap of his man-bag next to the bed. Thankfully, he’s always prepared, and with that, Fujigaya stops thinking so hard. Besides, he’s pretty sure that Kitayama has to be awake by now, or at least close enough; he _is_ the only Taisuke in the room.

It takes him a moment to maneuver out from under Kitayama’s dead weight, but once he’s cleared that hurdle, it’s easy for Fujigaya to roll a condom onto himself. Maybe if he weren’t too messy, it could just be attributed to a very vivid dream.

His eyes have grown accustomed to the light enough to see that without Fujigaya’s body to hold him up, Kitayama has returned to laying on his stomach, back arched enough for his ass to stick up in the air like a cat. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers and an old tour shirt, his thighs tensing under Fujigaya’s touch as Fujigaya kneels behind him.

The noises Kitayama’s moaning into Fujigaya’s pillow are encouraging, so Fujigaya continues up the backs of his thighs and under the fabric of his boxers until Kitayama squirms and pushes back hard enough to graze the tip of Fujigaya’s cock. That has Fujigaya gasping and quickly disrobing the both of them, grunting when Kitayama makes no move to help.

“I know you’re not asleep, so you can cut the act,” Fujigaya hisses, stretching out on top of Kitayama’s back and gently pushing his knees up underneath him. “I’m already going to do this.”

He lubes his fingers and pushes them between Kitayama’s legs, easily slipping in one after the other. Kitayama’s body immediately comes to life, desperately pushing back and taking him in deeper, but it feels more like an automatic reaction than any active participation on his part.

“Fuck me,” Kitayama mumbles, making no movement other than reacting to Fujigaya’s touch, and Fujigaya knows right away that he’s still asleep. Had he actually been awake, he would have said something else by now, something more than just “fuck me” repeated like a mantra, showing complete vulnerability to the last person to whom he should.

“There is nothing consensual about this,” Fujigaya whispers into the back of Kitayama’s neck, and Kitayama just whines as Fujigaya pulls out his fingers.

He takes a minute to take a steadying breath before slowly lining himself up with Kitayama and then pushing in. Fujigaya nearly chokes at how easily he slips inside, pausing to let Kitayama adjust. It’s not long before Kitayama is the one pushing back, and Fujigaya is obliged to begin.

As much as he wants to go faster, he holds back. Kitayama seems to have other ideas though, still moaning “fuck me” and writhing beneath Fujigaya. It’s with great reluctance, or at least that’s what he tells himself, that Fujigaya digs his fingers into Kitayama’s hips to hold him steady as he thrusts faster and faster. Sweat begins to bead at his brow as he exerts himself, and when he realizes that Kitayama’s worked a hand under himself to stroke himself, Fujigaya feels even hotter. He tries not to think about that, though.

What he does think about instead is how tight Kitayama is, and how wantonly he moans. Fujigaya wonders what he’d been dreaming about, against his earlier determination to block those thoughts out.

He slides his hands up Kitayama’s arms, lying flat on the other man’s back as he rocks into him, slowly but deeply. His mouth finds Kitayama’s ear and he latches his lips onto it, his own moans slipping out and making Kitayama tighten even more around him. Seems he likes that, his own noises growing with Fujigaya’s until Fujigaya doesn’t think he can take anymore.

“Wake up,” he hisses once more, pulling Kitayama’s hand away from his cock and up over his head. “I really want you to be awake for this.”

All he gets from Kitayama is a whine, his body desperately pushing back and growing increasingly tight as Fujigaya fucks him harder. Then suddenly Kitayama jerks, the muscles in his arms contracting under Fujigaya’s grip and his next words are definitely his own.

“Oh, my god,” he gasps, and Fujigaya comes.

He can’t hold back as he presses inside and groans deeply at the way Kitayama thrashes. Fujigaya feels boneless as he slumps forward; Kitayama has stilled somewhat, though he’s spitting curses. As strange as it feels to be actively trying to calm Kitayama down, Fujigaya makes the effort. He slips out and rolls them onto their sides, one arm cradling Kitayama to him.

“Shh,” Fujigaya whispers. “You were having a dream, and I helped you out.” He trails his fingers down Kitayama’s arm, careful as he loosens the fist Kitayama’s made. “Let me help you some more.”

Kitayama unclenches his fist, and Fujigaya takes that as a good sign. He guides both of their hands to Kitayama’s erection; the fact that the other is still hard makes Fujigaya feel a little better.

Whatever rage Kitayama had mustered upon waking instantly dissipates once Fujigaya takes him in hand, his own fingers only serving to squeeze Fujigaya’s tighter around him. He buries his face into Fujigaya’s collarbone, but Fujigaya still feels the desperate noises the older man tries to muffle.

“Do you dream about me fucking you often?” Fujigaya teases, speaking into Kitayama’s hair that smells rather nice as the sweat intensifies the scent of his shampoo.

“Shut up,” Kitayama hisses, his voice deep and thick with sleep and Fujigaya finds it a little hot. “Shut up and get me off.”

Fujigaya grins as he does exactly that, taking in the sounds of Kitayama rapidly approaching orgasm that become more like his unconscious begging with each stroke. Kitayama clings weakly to Fujigaya as he comes, struggling to catch his breath as his body naturally gravitates toward Fujigaya’s.

By the time Fujigaya has reached across the smaller man for tissues, Kitayama has already fallen still. “Of course you would fall asleep after sex.”

Kitayama makes a noncommittal noise and grabs for Fujigaya when the latter moves to roll away.

“That’s okay,” Fujigaya says, speaking into Kitayama’s damp hair again. “I like you better when you’re asleep.”

He gets a half-hearted punch to the chest, but that just makes him snuggle closer.


End file.
